


045 "meeting baby"

by wheel_pen



Series: Iron Man AU [45]
Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fish out of Water, Kid Fic, My Pepper is different, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Iron Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Pepper take their infant son to visit the Rhodes family for the first time. Puppets are abused, safe havens built, squeaky vegetables crushed, and worldviews expanded. Later, Tony and Pepper weather their first baby-related crisis. “The frog puppet will now pretend to eat your face, but in a completely safe and non-threatening way.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) My Pepper is very different from canon Pepper. Her personality/origin is very different; to separate her from canon Pepper I've given her a new last name and a different hair color.
> 
> 2) The bad words are censored. That's just how I do things.
> 
> 3) Stories are numbered in the order I wrote them, which isn't necessarily the order in which they occur. The timeline is Chapter 2 of story 031 “wet.”
> 
> I wrote this series after the first Iron Man movie came out. It's very AU but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play with these characters.

I killed the car engine and waited for the security gate to close behind us. “Okay,” I began grimly. “We’ll get out on _three_. You grab the diaper bag, I’ll grab the kid, we head for the door.”

“Okay,” Pepper agreed. “Don’t forget to put the blanket over the baby first.”

“Right,” I nodded. “And button your coat up.” We had drilled on this many times in the basement garage, with the robots standing in as the nosy paparazzi. Pepper didn’t really care, of course, but I liked to be prepared. “Okay. One, two—three!”

We exited the car simultaneously and the photographers outside the fence began shouting and snapping photos. Whatever, that was what they did, I’d been dealing with it for most of my life and I planned to teach my kid to deal with it, too, better than _I_ had when I was young. But that didn’t mean I didn’t realize they were _there_ , or that I didn’t want to avoid them.

Rhodey was waiting at the door to let us in. Much greeting was exchanged, of course, since it was the first time we had seen them since leaving for New York two months earlier. “So where is he?” Rae demanded. “Where’s the baby?”

“Baby? What baby?” I tried, though I was holding the blanket-draped carrier in my hand. Only Pepper looked up in alarm, momentarily. Everyone else just rolled their eyes. “Come on, Pep, let’s unveil the little prince!”

Pepper assisted in tugging the blanket away, revealing the most beautiful and perfect creature ever concocted on Planet Earth, and possibly in other dimensions as well. Who happened to be wearing an awesome little flight suit and bomber jacket. “Here,” Pepper announced dramatically. “This is what we made!” There was a great deal of oohing and aahing, none of it at all excessive in my opinion.

“Can I hold him?” Ellie finally asked, when she realized Pepper and I were content to merely display the child.

“Hmm, I suppose so,” Pepper allowed, reaching into the carrier to unstrap the baby. We had discussed the idea of other people touching the baby extensively and it seemed like it would be awkward to disallow the practice entirely, at least with good friends. “Forty, this is Ellie Rhodes,” Pepper introduced, quite seriously. “She is our friend. You will be safe with her.”

“Oh, who’s the good boy?” I added, not at all seriously. “Such a good boy in the car! Yes you were! Here you go, here’s cousin Ellie!”

The teenager picked the baby up and started fussing over him. Her mother joined her, anxious to get her own poking and squeezing in. Rhodey slapped me congenially on the back and made a few choice comments about my new-found maturity.

Around that time, Pepper took off her coat. “Oh my G-d, Pepper!” Rae exclaimed, probably without meaning to as she was usually more tactful. “You—er, you look very nice.”

“You look really skinny,” Ellie added, not so tactfully. “Didn’t you just have the baby a month ago?”

“Isn’t it great?” I enthused. “She lost all the baby weight in, like, a week. But, her boobs are still extra big! Only two more weeks until we’re cleared for _all_ activities,” I added lasciviously.

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “I take back all my remarks about your maturity,” he judged.

“I needed to metabolize the stored energy in my body to produce food for the child,” Pepper explained, in case they hadn’t grasped that fact. “Also, I share Tony’s enthusiasm, since my breasts now have a purpose. I didn’t really understand what they were for previously.”

“They were decorative,” I assured her. “Like a fine painting. Except three-dimensional. And not kept behind a velvet rope. Well, except for the _first_ seven or eight years—“

“Would anyone like a drink?” Rhodey interrupted, ruining my impromptu ode to Pepper’s breasts. I would have to work on it later.

“I would like a block of cheese,” Pepper replied, settling onto the couch. Dr. Robinson had revised his dietary restrictions somewhat post-delivery, considering Pepper’s advanced metabolic rate. Still no caffeine or dessert, though, much to her displeasure.

“Okay,” Rhodey agreed. “Tony?”

“Just a soda, thanks.” Rae and Ellie continued to coo at the baby. “See?” I pointed out to Pepper as I sat down beside her. “Other people talk to the baby like that. It’s perfectly natural.”

Pepper wrinkled her nose at me. I knew she wanted to call us all stupid, but she had _just_ enough social skills by now to realize she shouldn’t. “I suppose the _occasional_ exposure won’t be detrimental to him,” she was forced to agree, when Rae and Ellie looked over at us. “But you _always_ speak that way to him. How will Forty learn proper English?”

“The same way he’ll learn proper _everything_ , Pepper,” I informed her. “From _you_! I’m here to provide him with alternatives.” I accepted the soda Rhodey handed me. “I’m already trying to teach him a bunch of tricks, like sticking out his tongue, high-fiving, and burping on command,” I told Rhodey eagerly. “He’ll be the hit of kindergarten!”

“I can’t believe this outfit fits him already,” Rae commented, sitting down in a chair with the baby on her lap. “How much does he weigh?” Pepper related the results from her noon weigh-in, down to the hundredths of an ounce. She kept a log of it, of course. “I guess he’s going to be a big boy!” Rae responded politely.

“He’s very advanced, for a human baby,” Pepper told her. “He exhibits many behaviors more commonly found in two- and three-month-old infants.”

“He smiles!” I explained with delight. “And laughs at my jokes. And, he grabs my hand when I hold it out! Isn’t that incredible? I saw a robot once at a trade show in Japan that was _almost_ as good, but even _it_ wouldn’t laugh at my jokes!”

“He’s far more intelligent than I had anticipated,” Pepper agreed, nibbling her cheese.

“Uh-huh,” Rhodey replied with a certain amount of skepticism. “He still cries and poops and spits up, right? Or has he evolved beyond that?”

“I wouldn’t know, Pepper takes care of all that,” I told him dismissively.

“He does,” Pepper confirmed. “But these are biological necessities that I’m sure he will learn to moderate. Forty, you are now being held by Mrs. Rae Rhodes, who is the mother of Ellie Rhodes and also a friend,” she added to the baby. “I apologize for not introducing you earlier, but I was consuming nutrients to convert into food for you.”

“That’s okay, Mommy, I figured it out from context, because I’m a baby genius,” I replied on my son’s behalf.

“Stop that!” Pepper ordered. Answering for the baby really confused her, even when I used my normal voice.

“So what have you guys been _doing_ for the last month, holed up in your house?” Rhodey prodded. “The tabloids were saying the craziest stuff.”

“Which of course we didn’t believe,” Rae added quickly.

“Well, we had to figure out how he worked first!” I explained. Or rather, make sure that he worked more or less like a normal human baby. “Turns out it’s really easy, you just put the fuel in at one end and the exhaust comes out the other, just like a fighter jet.”

“Also he must be _bathed_ ,” Pepper grimaced.

“I get to do that!” I told them excitedly. “’Cause Pepper doesn’t like to get wet, you know.”

“He’s very splashy,” Pepper added with disapproval, “though I’ve asked him to stop.”

“And Pepper changes his clothes every thirty minutes.”

“Only when he’s awake,” she corrected. “He has an extensive wardrobe.”

“Oh my G-d, you guys have to come over and see it!” I exclaimed. “Little tiny Armani suits. And ties! And itty-bitty shoes hand-sewn in Italy.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Perfect for spitting up on.”

“He can’t walk yet, can he?” Ellie asked in confusion. “So what does he need shoes for?”

“Well, they exist,” I informed her. “And they look cool.” Was more reason than that needed?

Pepper had become suddenly alert beside me, staring intently at the baby. I became alert as well. “Forty is becoming anxious,” she announced. “Please return him.”

Rae shared a dubious look with Rhodey—what were they expecting with me and Pepper as parents, a ‘50’s sitcom?—but of course handed the kid over. Pepper settled him in her lap. “Don’t be anxious, Forty,” she advised in a reassuring tone. “Everyone here is a friend. Nevertheless, your father and I would never abandon you with them, unless of course there was some kind of emergency.”

“In which case, anxiety is probably an appropriate reaction,” I added, stroking the back of his head. “Do you think he’s too hot? Let’s take his jacket off.” Pepper agreed. “Hey, Tiger, you wanna toss this over one shoulder? That’d look pretty cool.”

“Please don’t use any other nicknames for him,” Pepper reminded me. “You’ll muddle his burgeoning sense of identity.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to muddle his burgeons, would we?” I agreed, tickling his chin. “Let’s save that for when he’s a teenager. Look! He laughed at my joke!”

“It was more of a polite chuckle,” Pepper assessed.

“How did you know he was getting nervous, Aunt Pepper?” Ellie inquired. I had a feeling she was _not_ going to learn much in the way of normal parenting skills from us.

“Oh, Pepper can read his foggy, unformed little mind,” I explained casually. See, this was actually true. But, it sounded enough like the normal outrageous stuff I made up that no one took it too seriously.

“Perhaps he would find the frog puppet soothing,” Pepper suggested, and I dutifully dug it out of the bag we’d brought. The Rhodeses were in for a treat now. “Forty, do you remember the frog puppet?” Pepper asked, holding the green terrycloth toy up in front of him. “Because this is a _puppet_ , I’m able to put my hand inside it and animate it manually.” She demonstrated, making the frog nearly come alive with her superior hand puppet skills. Seriously, it was better than one of those theme park animatronics. “This is not a realistic depiction of a—Forty, please look at me when I’m speaking to you. Thank you. As I was saying, this is merely a cartoon interpretation of a frog. Real frogs do not actually look like this.”

“Nor do they have people’s hands shoved up their, er, backsides to make their mouths move,” I added helpfully. “At least, that’s illegal to do with the endangered ones.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Pepper told me, to model good manners for our son.

“You’re welcome, Pepper,” I replied graciously. “And have I mentioned how lovely your cleavage looks today?” Hey, give me a break, it had been over two months.

Pepper ignored that comment, which I felt _wasn’t_ setting a good example for the baby. “I will now pretend to make the frog puppet vocalize,” Pepper told Forty. “These sounds do not accurately reflect the sounds frogs make in nature, but rather are simplified human interpretations of those sounds. Are you prepared?”

“I’m prepared,” I assured her.

She set the frog puppet down. “Were you speaking for yourself or Forty?” she asked in confusion.

“Just me. Sorry.”

Pepper nodded and lifted the frog again. “Ribbit,” she intoned, moving the puppet’s mouth with her fingers. “Ribbit!”

I stole a glance at the Rhodeses, who seemed a bit stupefied with amazement. I knew the feeling. Pepper had an entire zoo of hand puppets at home. But she felt Forty responded best to the frog one.

“Ribbit!” Pepper repeated. Forty watched the puppet intently, at least as intently as an infant could. “The frog puppet will now pretend to eat your face,” Pepper warned him, “but in a completely safe and non-threatening way.” She tickled the baby’s nose with the toy and I’m pretty sure he laughed in delight.

“Oh my G-d, he’s so smart,” I declared again. “He’s ready for serious theatre now. Maybe Off-Off-Broadway. He would totally get it. At least as well as anyone else in the audience.”

“He is no longer anxious,” Pepper assessed proudly.

“Let’s let Rhodey hold him, then,” I suggested.

“Yeah, let Uncle Rhodey hold him,” my friend seconded, reaching for the baby.

Pepper had to make the introduction first. And have Rhodey shake Forty’s hand. _Then_ she let him hold him.

I didn’t want people to think I had become one of those fathers who talks about nothing but the kid anymore, so I started a new topic of conversation. “Rhodey, you gotta come out to the house sometime and see the _awesome_ robot nanny I’m working on,” I encouraged my friend.

“Is a robot nanny really a good idea?” Rae questioned oppressively.

“Yes,” I told her firmly. “Er, as soon as I get a few bugs worked out.”

“What kind of bugs?” Rhodey asked suspiciously, doing silly, non-educational things with the baby.

“Nothing much,” I hedged. “I think there’s some kind of disjointed time loop in the code, that’s all. It works okay for a while, but then around the ten-minute mark it has a tendency to chuck the demo doll through a window.”

“And we wouldn’t want that to happen to the _real_ baby,” Pepper added, a bit unnecessarily.

“I should say not,” Rae agreed dryly.

Rhodey, computer geek that he was, was already turning over the problem in his mind. “Have you looked for bugs in the header—“

“Uncle Tony! Aunt Pepper!” greeted a new voice cheerfully.

“Yo, Big Mike!” I returned, high-fiving the teenager. “Where have you been hiding? We’ve been here for, like, three hours already.” More or less.

“Talking to Kaitlyn,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “The girl has _issues_. Seriously.”

“I think Kaitlyn seems very nice,” Rae opined. “Maybe if you spent a little more _time_ with her instead of your buddies—“

“What sort of issues?” I questioned, prepared to lend my considerable experience to the lad, despite his parents’ disapproval. I was _there_ for Mike, you know?

“Oh, I dunno,” he shrugged unhelpfully. “She says I don’t listen to her, or something.”

“That’s a tough one,” I agreed. “Tell her to talk louder, and wear bikinis more often.”

“Tony!” chided multiple voices.

“I’m just sayin’ what works,” I insisted.

Mike stopped by the chair where Rhodey sat with Forty. “Hey, is this the kid? Hey, little fella!”

“No, that’s the decoy baby,” I deadpanned. “The real one is sneaking in the back disguised as a pizza delivery guy.”

“That was your father’s attempt at a _joke_ , Forty,” Pepper added in that passive-aggressive way of hers. “You’d better get used to them.”

“Forty loves my sense of humor!” I protested. “And anyway, I’ve got a soda and you don’t. So there.” I wanted to add a playful stinger like ‘bite me,’ but it didn’t seem like that was good behavior to model for our son. Plus Pepper might have actually bitten me. So instead I put my arm around her shoulders.

“Who does he look more like?” Mike wanted to know, peering at the baby intently. “I think he looks more like Uncle Tony.”

“Either way, he’s d—n good-looking,” I stated graciously. “I just hope he doesn’t—“

“Very good, Forty!” Pepper said suddenly, in an encouraging tone.

“What? What’d he do? What’d I miss?” I asked urgently, sitting up straighter. The kid had probably solved some impossible theorem while I wasn’t looking.

“Forty correctly realized that Major Rhodes is _not_ his father!” Pepper announced brightly. “His view of the world has now been expanded.” She seemed very satisfied with this development.

I was somewhat underwhelmed. “It took him _this_ long to figure that out? What, did he think I suddenly got a tan or something?”

“The facial recognition areas of his brain have not been active for very long,” Pepper reminded me tartly. “Which, when coupled with his poor eyesight—“

“Well, J---s, I just thought the kid would know his own father a _little_ quicker than that,” I cut in, slightly put out. “Can’t he go by, like, smell or something?”

“He has little familiarity with life in this world—“ Pepper shot back.

“He’s not the only one!”

She gave me a narrow look. “Please, let’s not argue in front of the child,” she told me, playing her trump card.

“We aren’t arguing,” I argued.

“You’re disagreeing with me.”

“That counts as arguing?” Her look said yes. Pepper the dutiful and submissive assistant was no longer, unfortunately. Well, okay, actually she had never been, except perhaps in my mind. “Oh, okay, I’m sorry!” I told her, putting my arm around her shoulders again. “Shall we model appropriate making out, er, making up behavior? For the baby’s sake?”

“Perhaps later,” she deferred, but she patted my knee encouragingly.

“Whatever, dudes, I gotta split,” Mike announced, less than enthralled by the domestic issues at hand. “Hey, Uncle Tony, can I borrow your car? I’ll just take it for a quick spin, promise!”

Recklessly I fished out my keys and tossed them to him. “Sure, pal. But take the baby stuff out before you parade it around or you’ll look like a dork.”

“Yeah, it’d be tough to pick up chicks with a baby seat in back,” Mike agreed thoughtfully.

“Baby seats are _not_ dorky—“ Rae protested.

“You _better_ not be picking up chicks!” Rhodey called after his son.

“I’m gonna tell Kaitlyn you said that!” threatened Ellie.

“Please lower your voices!” Pepper instructed sharply, and the room went silent instantly. Pepper had that effect sometimes. “Forty appreciates a calm, soothing, _quiet_ environment!”

“I don’t know _where_ he gets _that_ from,” I added, mystified.

I could tell Pepper was displeased with the treatment Forty had received. I had been a little worried that her maternal instinct wouldn’t kick in and she would think of the baby as a high-maintenance potted plant or something, but she seemed to bond with him fairly well once he was actually visible to her. In fact she had become a little obsessive about him, but that hardly came as a surprise. “Please return him,” she insisted as Mike escaped. “It’s time to change his clothes.”

“Thirty minutes, on the dot,” I remarked, looking at my watch. I grabbed the bag for her as Rhodey handed the baby back. “Ooh, what did you bring to put him in? Did you bring the little ripped Black Sabbath t-shirt? Or that Algerian mohair suit? That’s nice and soft. Or his little Iron Man bunny suit? Someone picked it up for me in China, totally bootleg!” I explained with amusement. “I’m sending the lawyers after them as we speak—I’m copy-protected, you know. Oh, no, here, put _this_ on him!” I insisted, holding a onesie out to her. “This is my favorite. I can’t wait to take him out in this.”

“’Of course I’m cute, look how hot my mom is,’” Rhodey read dubiously from the jumper. “Classy.”

“Could be worse,” Rae noted wisely.

“May I change his clothes on the couch?” Pepper asked Rae politely. “I’ll put the changing pad under him. Or would you prefer I use another surface?”

“No, the couch is fine,” Rae assured her. “Er, if you have a changing pad.”

“Say, this reminds me,” I began casually, “you guys wouldn’t like a white leather couch, would you? For the basement, maybe. There’s only _one_ little stain on it…”

“That was before we realized we should always use a changing pad,” Pepper admitted, lying the baby down on his rocket ship-themed waterproof surface. “Forty, I’m going to change your clothes now. When you’re older, you’ll learn about the concepts of _modesty_ and _personal choice_ —“

“I vote for no modesty, but lots of personal choice,” I offered.

“—but for now I will dress you here in an outfit of my choosing,” Pepper concluded.

“Actually _I_ chose it,” I reminded her.

“Pardon me, an outfit your _father_ chose.”

“Who is _me_ ,” I added, “and not any other random guy in the room.” Apparently my son needed some reinforcement on this issue.

Pepper proceeded to remove the little khaki flightsuit and tuck Forty into the onesie instead, carefully explaining to him each step in the process. I helped at the appropriate moments, when Pepper’s hands were full or a pithy comment was needed.

“—and these are called _snaps_. They’re an alternative clothing fastener—“

“Don’t bother trying to understand them,” I advised. “They aren’t used in adult clothing. What you need to watch out for are _zippers_ , because those can be really painful if you aren’t careful.” This kid was going to be _so smart_ , with both me and Pepper to advise him. I just hoped he didn’t turn out to be dumb as a form of rebellion.

“Wow! Did you see what he did?!” Pepper and I exclaimed at more or less the same time, looking down at the baby in delight and amazement. “Look what he did! Has he ever done that before? No, I don’t think so—“

“What’d he do?” asked Rhodey, leaning forward for a better view.

“He grabbed his foot!” Pepper explained.

“Where’s our camera-bot when you need it?” I remarked with disappointment.

“We’ll just have to remember it,” Pepper consoled me. “I’ll write it down in his book!”

“He grabbed his foot?” Rhodey repeated, in what I felt was a dubious tone.

“Well, he’s stopped now,” I pointed out. “But it was very distinct while it lasted. Maybe I should’ve brought the camera-bot with us. Now there’s going to be a gap in his early chronology.”

“Please tell me you don’t film him every moment of the day,” Rhodey said.

“Well, not _every_ moment,” I replied. Now I was reluctant to look away from the baby, in case he did something else awesome and incredible. I could see Pepper felt the same way. “Er, well, we don’t _keep_ all the footage. Or rather, we’ll probably edit it down at some point.” For right now I was keeping it all on the same ultra-secure server as my Iron Man suit blueprints.

“Are you two thinking of having _another_ baby at some point?” my friend asked, with affectionate amusement. “So this one doesn’t turn out to be _completely_ spoiled rotten?”

Actually the thought hadn’t occurred to me at all. Until he mentioned it, of course. “Hmm,” Pepper responded with consideration. “Perhaps we might, if we discover something unsatisfactory with this one.”

“Well, _I_ was thinking we might, _if_ we ended up liking this one enough,” I countered.

“Either way, we’ll need time to make a thorough evaluation,” Pepper concluded. I nodded in agreement. “Forty is now dressed. Would anyone like to hold him?”

“Me!” I said immediately.

“I was thinking of Mrs. Rhodes or Ellie,” Pepper informed me, attempting to be discreet.

“Oh. Well, okay, I guess.”

Pepper handed the baby back to Rae. “May I have some more food, please?” she requested.

Rhodey started to stand, ever the gracious host. “Sure, what can I get you? More cheese?” The wrapper from the block she’d consumed lay on the back of the couch.

“I would prefer a jar of olives,” she replied. “And a glass of whole milk. Do you have any Spam?”

“Spam?” Rhodey blinked at her.

“Oh my G-d, you haven’t heard of Spam? You need to try it!” I enthused. “It’s some kind of meat that comes in a block in these little tins—“

“It may be a pork product,” Pepper interjected.

“—and it’s really easy to cut, no bones or anything, and it’s really good!” I added. “Kind of salty, though. Oh, I think we might’ve brought some.” I dug in the baby bag and produced a tin for Pepper. “Here you go! We didn’t understand what all those baby books meant about carrying food in the bag, until we discovered tins of Spam. This stuff never goes bad, _and_ you don’t have to refrigerate it.”

“I’ll go get the, er, olives and milk,” Rhodey offered, disappearing into the kitchen.

“I think, at some point, you’ll want to carry food for _the baby_ in there,” Rae suggested delicately.

Pepper and I stared at her. “But I carry food for Forty inside my body,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, the tanks seem in no danger of running dry,” I added. “What do we need to haul around extra for?”

“Never mind,” Rae decided wisely. “I’m sure you’ll adapt when the time comes.”

That sounded vaguely sinister to me, so I was glad when Rhodey returned with the snacks for Pepper and another soda for me. “Thanks, man. Say, did you get the baby gear I sent?”

“You mean the fifteen giant boxes sitting in the basement?” he asked dryly. “Tony, there is no way a kid needs all that stuff.”

“We’ve got _way_ more at home,” I assured him. “I just sent you guys the basics, for visits and stuff.”

“We seem to be doing fine without it so far,” Rhodey observed.

“Hmm, you’re right,” I conceded, glancing at Pepper for ideas.

“This is still a short-term visit,” she supplied cleverly. “Should we continue to stay, you will no doubt require such equipment as a changing table—“

“Crib—“

“Play yard—“

“Swing—“

“Rocker—“

“Bathing tub—“

“Pack ‘n’ play—“

“Car seat—“

“Stroller—“

“Bureau—“

“Storage bins—“

“Bookcase—“

“Tony! I really don’t think we need a _bookcase_ for the _baby_!” Rhodey interrupted us, laughing.

I didn’t see anything particularly funny about it. “Well I don’t see why not,” I insisted. “I don’t want the kid to be _illiterate_ , after all! We read to him all the time. We have tons of books at home.”

“Reading to Forty is a very good idea,” Rae encouraged. “What’s your favorite book? Er, _his_ favorite?”

“At the moment he’s quite partial to _Fungal Pathogens of the Amazon_ ,” Pepper told her. “But I think that’s because I read it extensively during my final month of pregnancy.”

“Also _Batman_ comics, but I think he just likes the pictures,” I added. “I’m gonna introduce him to some of the classic graphic novels as his tastes get more sophisticated. I just wish _Watchmen_ came in board book form, he’s kind of grabby sometimes.”

“Mom, is he joking?” Ellie whispered to her mother. Rae’s look said ‘probably not,’ which was correct.

“Hey, let’s go get that play yard and set it up,” I suggested to Rhodey eagerly. “I wouldn’t want you to attempt it alone, it was really complicated! The directions were in a language even _Pepper_ didn’t understand.”

Together Rhodey and I hauled the box up from the basement and started to assemble the play yard. That was what they were calling playpens these days, I guess because parents stopped liking the idea of plopping their kid in a _pen_. But play _yard_ was a lot harder to explain to Pepper, since it was in no way yard-like.

The first time I had assembled this particular model, at home, I’d had Pepper, Jarvis, and several robots to assist me and it had still been ridiculously difficult. But having successfully accomplished that mission, I felt confident about tackling the same project a second time, even without the high-tech help.

So Rhodey and I labored to set up the play yard in a corner of the living room, while Rae, Ellie, and Pepper discussed Forty’s bowel movements in great detail on the couch. Pepper had, fortunately, brought her log book with her.

“Isn’t it just like women, to be obsessed with bodily excretions?” I griped to Rhodey, with great superiority.

“Yes, I often say that myself,” he replied dryly, squinting at the instructions. “’Insert Tab A into Slot B.’”

“Tab A,” I muttered, finding the appropriate part. “Slot B. Hmm, not unlike building a _real_ baby.” This was ignored.

After some not-inconsiderable effort on our parts, the play yard was complete. Pepper inspected it thoroughly for safety, poking, pulling, and shaking it thoughtfully. Finally she nodded. “You have created a safe haven for our child, Tony,” she judged. “Thank you!” She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

I didn’t let her go right away. “Hey, can I get some more of that?” I suggested in a low voice.

“Perhaps later, when Forty is taking a nap,” she promised. Don’t think Pepper hadn’t noticed the two-month absence, too.

“Alright!” I enthused as she went to collect the baby. “Hey, I can go kill a mammoth or something if you need a blanket, too.”

“You sent us a _box_ of blankets,” Rhodey reminded me.

“Oh, yeah.”

Carefully, with much ceremony and explanation, Pepper laid Forty down in the play yard, all five of us peering over the sides at him. He blinked back up solemnly. “I guess we can sit back down now, huh?” Rhodey suggested after a moment.

“Your father and I will be just over here, Forty,” Pepper reminded the baby.

“Call if you need anything,” I added. “You’ve got my number, right? Hmm, when do you think we should get him a cell phone?”

“I was thinking a subcutaneous GPS locator chip would be more efficient,” Pepper responded as we sat back down on the couch.

“Huh,” I told her. What else was there to say to _that_ suggestion?

Pepper ate an olive. I took a sip of my soda. Pepper drummed her fingers on my knee. I tapped my foot.

“Okay, let’s get him back now,” I decided, jumping up to retrieve the baby.

Pepper agreed. “Forty _was_ becoming somewhat bored.”

“It’s _my_ turn to hold him!” I declared, just in case anyone else had ideas about being greedy.

Rhodey was shaking his head and smirking when I sat back down with Forty on my lap. “So, how long have you guys gone so far? With the baby in the playpen?”

“Our record is about three minutes,” I admitted.

“Three minutes, eleven seconds,” Pepper corrected.

“Well, he sleeps so much, it’s more fun to play with him when he’s awake, than leave him in a _box_ ,” I explained. “Yes, you’re so much fun, aren’t you, buddy! Yes you are!” Pepper made a noise of disapproval. I rolled my eyes. “’Buddy’ is _not_ a nickname, it’s a term of endearment,” I argued.

“It seems too ambiguous to me,” she opined.

“I bet you guys use those Baby Einstein DVDs, don’t you?” Ellie guessed. “My piano teacher says they’ve made _her_ kids really smart.”

“Forty is _already_ quite intelligent,” Pepper informed her, just before I could. “He merely needs an environment that will nurture his intellect and creativity.”

“We got a bunch of those shows,” I replied to Ellie, “and I think Pepper’s really gotten a lot out of them, but we decided we weren’t going to let Forty watch TV.”

“Ever?” Rae asked in surprise. I felt that she was supportive of this idea, but had seen it as a miracle she never thought she would witness.

“Well, probably at _some_ point,” I clarified. “I figure when he’s smart enough to hack into Jarvis’s entertainment subroutine and bypass the parental lockouts, he can probably handle whatever’s on HBO.”

“So, just a couple years, then,” Rhodey deadpanned.

“Oh, Uncle Tony, he’s gonna be a _dork_ if he doesn’t watch TV!” Ellie protested on Forty’s behalf.

“Watching TV is _hardly_ necessary, especially for a young child,” her mother countered. “There are so many other things Forty will be able to entertain and educate himself with, that will let him use his imagination more than just staring at a screen.”

Incredibly, I was discovering that me becoming a parent had somehow induced Rae to say much more sensible things. So _that_ was what was wrong all these years! “Absolutely,” I agreed heartily. “I mean, you can read a good graphic novel a hundred times without getting bored.”

“I _am_ looking forward to the day when Forty’s interest expands beyond fungi to the fascinating worlds of bacteria and viruses,” Pepper added hopefully.

“Uh-huh,” Rae replied, no doubt overwhelmed by our forethought. Well, raising a kid properly took a lot of planning, you know.

I held Forty up in front of me so we were at eye level. “Take a good look, pal,” I suggested to him. “ _I’m_ your dad. There _will_ be a quiz later.” I moved him forward and back a bit. “What’s his focal length?” I asked Pepper. “I want to make sure the picture is coming in clear.” She adjusted his position slightly. “What if he needs glasses?” I worried suddenly. “Should we have him tested for that?” I moved him an inch closer. “Better one?” Two inches back. “Or two?”

“I _had_ him at the correct distance, and then you moved him,” Pepper complained. “Anyway, Forty doesn’t like being dangled out like that, he prefers to be nestled securely on a lap.”

“I’m _hardly_ ‘dangling’ him,” I protested, nestling him securely on my lap again. “I’m not Michael Jackson, you know.”

“So, are we gonna have a baby shower for Aunt Pepper?” Ellie wanted to know. “Or can’t you have one afterwards?”

“I’m sure you _can_ ,” Rae replied thoughtfully. “That would be fun, don’t you think, Pepper?”

“A ‘baby shower’ is a party held for an expectant or new mother for the purpose of receiving gifts,” Pepper announced, to make sure we were all on the same page I guess. “But, Tony adequately fulfills my gifting needs already.”

“Yeah, tell ‘em what I gave you this morning!” I insisted smugly.

“He gave me a pair of emerald-and-diamond earrings,” she reported. “They’re _quite_ lovely.”

Eyes automatically went to Pepper’s bare ears. “But she had to take them off because Forty kept grabbing at them,” I explained, poking at the baby. “Yes you did, didn’t you? You like sparkly things, too, just like Mommy! Maybe we could get him an itty-bitty nose ring or something. Wouldn’t that be cool?”

“Actually,” Rae interjected, attempting to bring the conversation back on track, “at a baby shower the gifts would all be for the _baby_. Generally.”

“Oh.” Pepper seemed disappointed by this. I think she secretly enjoyed getting presents, from me anyway. “I believe Tony and I have already provided for Forty’s immediate needs.” And then some.

“Oh, it doesn’t have to be fancy,” Rae insisted. “It’s just a chance to get some friends together and talk about babies and children, kind of welcoming the new mom into the fold and giving her support and advice—“

Pepper and I were both staring at her as she rhapsodized. “That sounds absolutely horrible,” I replied for both of us. “Ick. Shudder. Who wants to hear about other people’s kids? I think we can figure stuff out just fine. Besides, Pepper doesn’t _have_ any friends.”

“All good points,” Pepper agreed.

Rae was not easily discouraged. “Maybe people could bring their favorite children’s books—“

Pepper was distracted from politely but obliviously listening to Rae by me reaching for the frog puppet. “Hey, pal, no offense, but you’re drooling on my arm,” I told Forty, sopping up the mess with the cloth.

“What are you doing?” Pepper asked.

I thought it was obvious. “Just cleaning up the drool. What, is it good for the skin or something?”

“But you’re using the frog puppet. There are other cloths specifically made for that purpose,” she pointed out, somewhat agitated.

“Well, J---s, it’s washable,” I protested. “And it’s made of that, er, washcloth material.”

“Forty will become confused if you use the frog puppet for other purposes,” Pepper insisted.

Sometimes I thought maybe Pepper just made this stuff up. Or was projecting. (Hey, it took a while to explain puppets to _her_ the first time.) But on the other hand, I didn’t really want to risk it, since she _did_ have a fuzzy view on the kid’s thought processes. “Okay, okay,” I conceded. “We’ll compromise.” I squirmed the puppet onto one hand—it was a little snug, clearly the result of discrimination against large-handed parents by the hand-puppet industry. “Okay, look, Forty, it’s Mr. Frog!”

“The frog’s gender was not specified,” Pepper cut in.

“It’s… Frog!” I amended awkwardly, flapping the puppet’s mouth open and shut. “Do you know what frogs like to eat, Forty? Baby drool! Do you have anything to feed the frog? You do? Awesome! So let’s just—“

Pepper carefully took my puppet-covered hand and laid it gently on my knee, her hands atop it preventing any movement. She seemed to be struggling to compose herself. I could only imagine the number of ways I had just offended her rather strict hand-puppet sensibilities.

“Perhaps,” she finally began, with great delicacy, “it would be better if you stuck to building safe havens for our child, and allowed _me_ to manipulate the hand puppets.”

“That bad, huh?” I suggested with resignation, allowing her to remove the puppet.

She nodded quickly. “I’m afraid so.”

“Oh, I thought it was cute!” Rae insisted, which just confirmed Pepper’s diagnosis in my mind.

“It was far too fanciful,” Pepper countered evenly. “And he made the puppet’s mouth move when it wasn’t vocalizing.”

“I know, I s—k at puppets,” I agreed. “Wait ‘til we get to Legos, though, I’ll be awesome!”

Pepper put the frog puppet away out of my reach and produced another toy from the bag instead. “Here, you may manipulate this for Forty’s benefit.”

“Oh, look, buddy, it’s Mr. Tomato!” I squeezed the red plastic vegetable in front of the baby and it squeaked. “Uh, _is_ it ‘Mister’?” I asked Pepper quickly.

“Yes, he’s wearing a beret.”

“Mr. Tomato!” Squeak squeak squeak.

“Wow, what a delightful noise,” Rhodey commented dryly.

“It _does_ have a pleasing resonance frequency,” Pepper agreed. Squeak squeak.

“Oh, who likes Mr. Tomato? Forty does! Forty likes Mr. Tomato!” I enthused. Squeak squeak. “Look at that smile! Here, do you want to hold Mr. Tomato? That’s right, gnaw on him all you want.”

“Forty, I think you’ll find that ‘Mr. Tomato’ has several interesting surface textures for you to explore,” Pepper reminded the baby (because she’d explained this to him before, you know). “However, don’t be disappointed if you lack the strength to make him squeak on your own. That will develop in time.”

“Yeah, once we get you on a strength-training program you’ll be crushing fruits and veggies in no time!” I told him. “You’ll be cracking walnuts with your arms!”

“Didn’t you do that once, Tony?” Rhodey just had to point out.

I snickered. “So I’m told. At least, I woke up with a giant bruise on my arm the next day. But it might have been a hickey.”

“That little toy is so cute, Pepper,” Rae cut in, as if talk about my previous liaisons might have offended Pepper. “Wherever did you get it?”

“I bought it from a baby store in New York,” Pepper explained. “Tony had them bring their inventory to the Avengers’ Mansion so I could select items without leaving my bed.”

“They had a h—l of a time getting through Security,” I added gleefully. “On an X-ray scan a breast milk pump _totally_ looks like some kind of terrorist device.”

“I purchased a set of squeaking plastic vegetables—including the tomato—in the hopes of educating Forty about proper nutrition,” Pepper went on.

“Instead of modeling it, since we won’t be,” I put in honestly.

“They were accompanied by an informative book entitled, _Our Friends the Veggies_ ,” Pepper concluded.

“Our friends, whom we eat,” I commented, leaning the baby against my shoulder. “The best kind of friends, I’ve always felt. How do you like this, buddy? You like being up high?” Forty made a gurgling noise and moved his arm around a bit. “I know! Everything looks so different, doesn’t it?”

“That’s not what he was trying to convey,” Pepper corrected me, but in a nice way. “Forty is feeling very gratified that you are his father!”

This set off a chorus of ‘Awww’ in the room, but I wasn’t entirely buying in. “Well, he doesn’t have much basis for comparison, does he?” I pointed out. “And anyway, I thought he was still shaky on the identity bit.”

“He’s been thinking about it a great deal,” Pepper assured me. “In fact, it was the revelation about Major Rhodes that made him realize his attachment to you.”

“Glad I could help,” Rhodey said.

“Oh, of _course_ he’s attached to me!” I agreed, more to the baby. “Yes, you know who Daddy is, don’t you? We’re gonna have lots of fun together! Maybe some time when your mother isn’t around to stop us. We’ll assign _all_ the hand puppets genders! Even if they _aren’t_ wearing berets!”

“I can’t wait to see this kid ten years from now,” Rhodey commented.

“Forty is becoming hungry,” Pepper informed me. “I must feed him now.”

“Oh. Okay. Need any help?” I offered, reluctantly handing the baby over.

“I’m afraid you’re not biologically equipped,” Pepper sent back, standing.

“Ouch. It really hurts when you say that, Pepper.” This was a little joke that we had. Sometimes the rejoinders got a little tacky, so I decided to just stop there out of consideration for our hosts.

Rae showed Pepper to the spare room, then came back to join our stilted and paltry conversation. She and Rhodey tried to tell me about a trip they’d been on, and Mike’s college classes, and Ellie’s part-time job, but honestly things were kind of boring without Pepper and the baby.

Finally Pepper returned. “Oh my G-d, you were gone forever!” I complained, taking the baby back. “Were you hosting a buffet or what? I think he’s grown since I saw him last!”

“He _did_ consume quite a lot of food,” Pepper agreed. “I require trail mix.”

“Got it,” Rhodey assured her, heading for the kitchen. I had thought ahead and sent them a list of Pepper’s new food allowances (and a check to cover them).

“Did you burp him and everything? Okay, good, no need to fear, then.” I started to sit back down on the couch with him.

“Do you think _we_ might get to hold the baby again, Tony?” Rhodey asked pointedly, returning with Pepper’s snack. “Considering that you’re with him _all day_.”

“Oh. Um…” I gave Pepper an uncertain look. Yes, we had discussed the issue, but still, it seemed unfair to me. Her response was supportive, but indicated I ought to stick to our plan. “Well, okay, I guess. But don’t confuse him about anything!”

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Rhodey promised.

We didn’t want to stay too long, since this was Forty’s first visit anywhere really, and Pepper was afraid he might become anxious again in the unfamiliar surroundings. “Okay, next time you guys can come over and see _us_ ,” I invited as we packed up our gear. Somehow over the course of just a couple hours the contents of the diaper bag had gotten spread all over the house, it seemed.

“Count on it,” Rhodey assured me. “I can’t wait to see that high-tech bachelor pad covered in baby gates, corner pads, and safety locks!”

I blinked at him. “What are you talking about? I mean, yeah, I upped the house security even more since the paparazzi have been trying to score baby photos, but—“

“Oh, Jim, they don’t really need any of that stuff right now,” Rae chided. “Forty can’t even crawl yet. They have plenty of time to childproof the house.”

“Childproof?” I repeated, still dubious. “We already let _one_ in—is there going to be some kind of infestation now? Should we spray?” Rhodey seemed to find this inordinately amusing.

“He’s such a happy baby!” Rae was cooing as Forty was secured in his carrier. “I can’t believe he hasn’t cried once this whole time!”

“Well, Pepper anticipates his needs and tries to alleviate them,” I explained again. “You know, like she does with me. Or at least, like she _used_ to…” I mean, sure, Pepper still arranged all my meals, handled my business affairs, took care of my clothes, kept my appointment book, and so forth, but then again she _was_ a super-strong trans-dimensional being who didn’t sleep, so none of that really counted as going above and beyond in my book. Now, a nice massage, while wearing slinky lingerie (her not me), and maybe a new episode of _Monster Bike_ —

“For goodness sake, Tony, she just had a baby,” Rae chastised with some disgust, kissing me good-bye. “You could try doing something nice for _her_ once in a while. Like getting up with the baby when he cries at night and letting Pepper sleep.” (I had, of course, left the whole ‘trans-dimensional being’ bit out of my complaint.)

“I don’t think he _does_ cry at night,” I protested, unoffended by Rae’s low estimation of my character. I did _plenty_ of nice things for Pepper, after all.

“Only occasionally,” Pepper modified. “I believe sometimes he becomes distressed contemplating the complexity of the world around him and all the knowledge he must accumulate. It can be difficult to soothe him during these existential crises.”

“And there doesn’t seem to be anything in the baby books about those,” I added dryly.

“Oh, you’ve actually _read_ the baby books?” Rhodey teased, skeptical.

“Well, I’ve skimmed them,” I corrected. “I’ve studied a few diagrams. Mostly in the ‘conception’ sections. Although we’re kind of past that point.”

“All items have been packed,” Pepper announced. “The child is secure. We’re ready to depart.”

“Okay.” I pulled out my cell phone. “Jarvis, we’re about to leave. Please tell me Mike left us enough gas to get home and put the baby stuff back in the car.”

“ _Yes, sir_ ,” my robotic assistant assured me, checking his connections in the car’s onboard computer system. “ _It appears the infant seat has even been properly reinstalled_.”

“I knew Mike was gonna be a mechanical genius,” I bragged. “Okay, see you later, guys! Come on, Pep, let’s beat the photographers!”


	2. Chapter 2

My sweet, contented infant son was yowling his head off. His face was red, almost purple, his whole body shook with the howls, and real tears dripped from his eyes. It was unbearable. Especially as Pepper had gone out.

“Oh my G-d! Where the h—l is she?!” I demanded in frustration, pacing back and forth across the living room with the unhappy bundle in my arms.

“ _The GPS locator on her phone shows her to be southbound on La Cienega, approximately two-point-five miles from here_ ,” Jarvis answered promptly, but unhelpfully.

“Call her again!” I ordered.

“Tony!” Rhodey protested from the couch. “You just talked to her sixty seconds ago!”

“Oh G-d, has it been that long? Jarvis!”

“ _Calling, sir_.”

Pepper answered immediately. “ _Has he stopped_ —“ The baby’s cry cut her off.

“No!” I answered anyway, with despair. “What’s wrong with him?!”

“ _I don’t know_.” Pepper was distressed as well, I could tell, which was _some_ consolation, but not much.

“Can’t you tell? Aren’t you close enough to tell?” We had been over this before, of course. We’d been over _everything_ before. But there wasn’t anything left to do but wait until she got home, and I was terrible at waiting.

“ _No, he’s too far away!_ ” Pepper protested. Apparently she had to be quite close to Forty to read his mind. What a way to discover _that_ little factoid.

“ _Now, Tony, you need to calm down_ ,” Pepper’s shopping partner advised me. “ _If you’re tense the baby will pick up on that_.”

I narrowed my eyes at the control screen on the window, already having had many dark and poisonous thoughts about Rae that afternoon. Pepper didn’t _need_ to get out of the house. She didn’t _get_ ‘cabin fever.’ She didn’t long for the company of adults besides myself. But Rae had insisted, and to keep the peace we decided to go along with her, thinking that a few hours couldn’t do any harm. And look what happened! The baby had gone crazy.

“ _Why don’t you let Jim hold him for a little while?_ ” Rae went on. Good thing there weren’t cameras involved or she would’ve seen the grimace that crossed her husband’s face. I couldn’t blame him—who wants to hold a squalling baby? It’s like a giant hot potato. “ _He’ll be calmer, and maybe Forty will quiet down_.”

“We’ve tried that before,” I snapped. “We’ve tried _everything_!” Walking, rocking, music, toys, lying still, changing his diaper, changing his clothes, even watching TV. “Should I give him a bath? Do you think that will help?”

Pepper was hesitant to prescribe it. “I’ll probably be home before you get things set up,” she hedged.

“Is he hungry? Does he sound hungry to you?” Pepper had fed him right before she left, so we didn’t _think_ he would’ve had time to become so painfully starving. But we couldn’t really test that theory because—

“ _I can’t believe you guys don’t have any baby formula in the house_ ,” Rae said for the tenth time, in exasperation.

“We didn’t think we needed it!” I shot back, also for the tenth time.

“ _Well, a time like this, it would’ve been really helpful_ ,” Rae pointed out, which was grossly unnecessary. “ _What, did you think ‘baby formula’ was some kind of mathematical expression for creating a baby?_ ”

Rae’s sense of humor was rarely appreciated by me, and certainly not in times of great distress. “No, I’m not _quite_ that stupid, thank you,” I replied acidly. “But if you have—“

“Jarvis, hang up,” Rhodey suggested, and the computer did so prudently. “Okay, why don’t you take a break,” he added to me, reaching for the miserable infant. “Go in the kitchen or downstairs or something. I’ll hold him.”

I let him take Forty, but I couldn’t possibly leave the room. Abandon my child in his distress? I just couldn’t. Physically, I couldn’t. I didn’t care if it was simple boredom causing him to be so upset, or hunger or discomfort or anything else—I couldn’t just walk off and leave him. Too many people already thought I was likely to do that anyway—according to the media reports—and maybe I did, too. I mean, it would have been so easy to just go down to the workshop, blast a little punk rock, and get absorbed in tinkering with the suit or the robots, leaving Rhodey to do the fatherly duty of comforting my child. And I couldn’t let myself start to go down that path, because it would be far too tempting to keep going further and further, until I became some kind of mysterious figure hiding behind stacks and stacks of blueprints and gadgets, someone who didn’t really know or understand his own son.

“Okay, give him back,” I said to Rhodey abruptly, putting Forty over my shoulder again.

“Tony—“ my friend began, then gave up as he saw the look in my eye. Maybe I _wasn’t_ helping. But, d----t, at least I was _trying_.

“Shh, calm down, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay,” I told Forty. What if he was really sick? Dr. Robinson had said he was a remarkably healthy baby, with few if any of even the normal ‘healthy baby’ issues, but the fact remained that Forty was not entirely of human parentage and it was possible some bizarre result of that might pop up at any time. The only reason I wasn’t already in Dr. Robinson’s research lab here in town was because the person who could best figure out what was wrong with Forty—and whether it required medical attention—wasn’t home yet.

“Jarvis, where is—“

“ _She’s pulling into the garage now, sir_.”

Then I _did_ go downstairs, rushed in fact, but only so I could be standing there in the garage the moment Pepper opened the door on Rae’s car. “Here, here, here,” I said, in that nonsensical but emphatic way people had when they were upset about something. Not like she wasn’t fully _expecting_ me to be there with the kid, after all. I handed Forty over to her before she could even shut the car door, his wails echoing plaintively off the concrete surfaces. “What’s wrong with him?!”

Rae was also getting out of the car, possibly even speaking, but I ignored her completely and followed Pepper over to the couch. She cradled the baby gently, trying to soothe him while, I hoped, also probing his mind for clues to his unhappiness. “Well?” I insisted unhelpfully, leaning over the back of the couch. I was ready to race upstairs, or for a car, if necessary. “Is he hungry? Is he sick? Does he want a bath? What’s wrong? Why’s he crying?”

Pepper’s expression became suddenly thoughtful, which I took to mean she had figured it out. “What is it? What’s wrong? He’s hungry, isn’t he? Is he just bored? Did something scare him?” Instead of answering me, Pepper laid the baby down on the couch—fortunately it already had plenty of workshop stains, not that I cared at the moment—and started unsnapping his little jumper. “Are you changing him? I already changed him! I changed his diaper _and_ his clothes! Three times! Does he not like his outfit? Is it pinching or itchy? He’s worn it before! He—“

Pepper had freed Forty’s foot and was poking at it. “He has a hair around his toe.”

I blinked at her. Several times. “Uh— _what_?”

Pepper removed the offending bit of matter from the baby’s toe, the strand practically too small to see, and disposed of it with the aid of a nearby robot. Then she snapped Forty back into his jumper and laid him over her shoulder comfortingly. “He had a hair around his toe,” she repeated. “It was really bothering him.”

Well no s—t. I collapsed over the back of the couch, my muscles giving up their support of me now that the crisis had passed. “A _hair_ around his _toe_?! What is he, the princess with the pea?!” I sputtered. Don’t get me wrong, I was _thrilled_ it wasn’t anything more serious. But it seemed like an _awful_ lot of fuss for something so minor. I didn’t doubt Pepper’s assessment of the situation, however, as Forty had calmed notably since the hair had been removed.

“Well, he’s sensitive,” Pepper protested, rubbing the baby’s back. “The hair had gotten pulled a bit tightly around his toe and was becoming painful, and he lacked the muscle control and coordination to investigate the irritant himself.”

“Oh my G-d,” I sighed, crawling over the back of the couch. I didn’t think I would make it trying to walk around. I put my head on Pepper’s other shoulder and curled up close for support. “It was _terrible_ , Pepper, just _terrible_! He was so upset! Does he hate me now? I should have given him a bath! That might have gotten rid of the hair.”

“Perhaps,” Pepper agreed, rubbing _my_ back now with one arm and holding the baby with the other. “But it may have been better that we weathered this crisis, and that we learned from it.”

“ _Did_ we learn?” I countered, feeling rather disheartened now. “I don’t think I learned anything.”

“So what was wrong?” I vaguely heard Rhodey ask in the background. “Hey, he’s crying less!” Rae, I believe, muttered something in disgust about ‘high-strung’ individuals and made Rhodey help her carry the shopping bags upstairs. Well, it was easy for her to scoff, she’d probably never had a hair wrapped around her toe like a garrote, slowly pulling tighter and tighter until it cut off the blood flow.

“Oh, Pepper!” I moaned again, as she had momentarily stopped rubbing my back. She took the hint and restarted. “You can’t imagine how horrible it was! He was crying and crying, and nothing I did helped! Hey, why is he _still_ crying?”

“Residual distress,” she assured me.

“I know the feeling!” I sat quietly for a moment, curled up against Pepper. “You didn’t answer my question from before. Is he mad at me? Because I didn’t understand what was wrong with him?”

“No, he’s not mad at you,” Pepper said. “Forty generally feels affectionate towards you. He was just temporarily upset and frustrated about his inability to communicate. And this, Forty,” she added seriously to the baby, “is another good reason why you need to work on your verbal communication skills.”

“He needs to learn to talk, _fast_ ,” I agreed. “I can’t take this kind of uncertainty. Maybe we could teach him to write. Or push buttons on a special keyboard, like they do with gorillas. Or hey, what about that baby sign language?” I _did_ , occasionally, glance at the informative articles Pepper emailed me. “Let’s teach him that. What would the sign for ‘hair around my toe’ be?”

“We’ll look into it,” Pepper promised. “He has calmed somewhat. Would you like to hold him again?” I hesitated. I had fallen off that horse once and was now skittish about getting back on. “I believe Forty would enjoy connecting with you,” Pepper tempted.

“Well, okay.” I took the baby from her and we all squirmed around so I was leaning back against Pepper. “Hey there, little buddy,” I said to Forty, who blinked back up at me with solemn but drying eyes. “Are you okay now? I’m sorry I couldn’t help you before. I didn’t understand what was wrong! Why didn’t you grab your foot, at least? I know you can do that!”

“Don’t make him feel guilty!” Pepper whispered in my ear.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I didn’t mean it was your _fault_ , sport,” I clarified quickly. “Just suggesting ways we can prevent it in the future.” Forty burbled in response and grabbed my finger that I held out to him, and I felt better. “I don’t think he’s mad at me, Pepper!”

“No, I don’t think he is, either,” she agreed soothingly.

“Do you think we should buy some baby formula?” I asked after a moment of quiet companionship. “In case next time he _is_ hungry? Or maybe, he would eat and calm down a little, until you came home and could diagnose the problem.”

“I suppose it might be prudent to have some baby formula available for emergencies,” Pepper agreed cautiously. “But we should consult with Dr. Robinson about the proper specifications first.” I concurred on that one—Rhodey would’ve gladly gone out for baby formula an hour ago, or I could’ve had some delivered right to the house, but I didn’t want to give our little something a mix that might be bad for him. Too much sugar or magnesium or fake vanilla flavor and who knew—Forty might have turned into a pulsating pinpoint of light like his mother, or a miniature black hole consuming all light and matter within a three-mile radius. And wouldn’t _that_ be awkward to explain!

“Those outcomes seem very unlikely,” Pepper judged. “Still, we should consult Dr. Robinson first. And perhaps a physicist as well.”

“You’re such a good baby!” I told Forty, in case he had felt neglected while Pepper and I talked. “I know you weren’t trying to be bad by crying! You were just upset. And trying to communicate. Don’t worry about it. Do you want a toy?”

At the mention of the word a half-dozen baby toys appeared in the air around Forty’s head, held aloft by various robots. The robots were quite drawn to the baby—more of that electromagnetic interference like Pepper had—but we tried to keep them out from underfoot while they practiced interacting with baby doll models. There were still a few bugs in the babysitter subroutines Rhodey and I were working on.

“Forty would like to hold the caramel-colored plush bear,” Pepper reported, so I selected that one from the toy mobile above us.

“Here you go, buddy! Here’s your little bear. He’s nice and soft, isn’t he?” The baby squashed the bear’s nose with his arm and gnawed on his ear, which seemed to indicate approval. “What shall we name the little bear? What will we call him, hmm, Forty?”

“I would prefer to avoid another name discussion,” Pepper put in. “The last one was too stressful!”

After a few minutes of tranquility I was calm enough to think about other issues. “So how was your shopping trip with _Rae_?” Sad to say, her name left a bad taste in my mouth at the moment—like sour baby formula, perhaps—but I figured that would pass. Eventually.

“Not unpleasant,” Pepper reported, “until I learned about the baby’s distress, of course. Mrs. Rhodes was quite insistent at first that we should look for items that pertained only to me and didn’t involve the baby at all. So I bought some new suits for work, and some new shoes.”

“Whoo-hoo, fashion show later,” I anticipated. “You’ll probably have to send them all back. You’re probably out of practice picking hot outfits for work.”

“But then we ended up in a bookstore, looking for books for Forty,” Pepper continued. “Mrs. Rhodes had some very definite ideas on what constituted appropriate children’s literature.”

“What a shock,” I commented sarcastically. Rae had definite ideas about _everything_. “Anyway, we’ve got _tons_ of books for Forty already. I was just going to start him on _The Death of Superman_.”

“Mrs. Rhodes’s choices were quite different from our usual selections,” Pepper reported. “Rather simplistic, in fact. And very fanciful!”

She said this last bit with so much disapproval that I just had to comment. “Well, _Superman_ and _Batman_ are kind of fanciful, aren’t they? You don’t secretly loathe me for filling Forty’s mind with them, do you?”

Pepper patted my shoulder soothingly. “Superheroes aren’t fanciful,” she judged, “because _you_ are a superhero, easily on par with _Batman_ in terms of technical wizardry.”

“Pepper! Please, not in front of the baby!” I warned her. “But we can leave him with Rhodey and Rae and head to the bedroom, if you’d like to continue discussing my ‘technical wizardry’.” Sometimes Pepper could get a little forward with her compliments—not that I minded in principle of course, but I didn’t want to gross the kid out. We had to look out for his moral fiber, after all. “Yeah, let’s do that, and you can try on your new shoes for me, too. Just the shoes.”

“Forty is tiring of the plush bear,” Pepper noted, ever alert to our child’s shifting moods. I didn’t see how other parents managed, with no one to read their kids’ minds—probably explained why there was so much crime in the world.

“New toy!” I summoned, and the robots zipped back with alternate selections. How people did without robots, too, I couldn’t fathom either. But _that_ was one hole the (mostly) weaspons-free Stark Industries was trying to plug. “Which one do you want, buddy? You want Mr. Brussels Sprout?”

“ _Doctor_ Brussels Sprout,” Pepper corrected in my ear. “It’s wearing a monocle!”

“Er, yeah,” I agreed. Or maybe ‘went along with’ was a more accurate term. “Ooh, lookit, it’s your wooden rattle! You probably want that, right?”

“You are becoming quite adept at interpreting Forty’s moods!” Pepper told me with approval as I took the rattle and dangled it over the baby, shaking it to make a clacking noise. Forty burbled and reached up to bat at the toy, then stuck part of it in his mouth as soon as I gave it to him.

“Do you think he’s developing some kind of oral fixation?” I worried to Pepper. “I don’t mean that in a dirty way. Hmm, or maybe I do. I’m not sure.”

“I believe he’s merely using his limited resources to thoroughly explore the world around him,” Pepper assured me.

“G-d, what a fantastic excuse,” I decided. “I wish I’d thought of that one when I was younger, it would have gotten me out of so much trouble! Like that time in the wine cellar with the Nigerian ambassador’s daughter.”

“Speaking of _unbelievable_ ,” Pepper replied dryly, and I snickered. She was a very good sport about my previous predilections. “Shall I continue about the children’s books Mrs. Rhodes selected?”

“Oh, right. Please do.”

“I’m not sure we should expose Forty to them,” she hedged. “They contain messages which I feel may confuse and disturb him.”

Okay, I didn’t know too much about kids’ books, but I had to turn my head and give Pepper a _look_ over my shoulder at _that_ one. “’Confuse and disturb’?” I repeated dubiously. “What are we talking about here? _Joey and the Animal Sacrifice_? _Little Bunny Foo-Foo Visits the Meth Lab_?” It seemed unlikely that Rae would come up with outright _disturbing_ books for the kid, even _I_ had to admit _that_.

“Animals that wear clothing!” Pepper responded with horror (for her). “And speak! And drive motorized vehicles!”

“Oh. Huh. Well, dogs wear sweaters sometimes. And parrots can talk,” I pointed out. “And—oh, _and_ , remember that one time at that charity circus event? They had a dog that could drive a car! Well, steer anyway.”

Pepper gave this some thought. “So, you believe _Sheep in a Jeep_ and _Corduroy_ represent merely extensions of reality, like _Batman_ , as opposed to outright misinformation and delusion?”

“Um, yeah, probably,” I decided, not one-hundred-percent sure what she was talking about. “Hey, you’re the one who bought him squeaky vegetable toys wearing berets and monocles.”

“Tony, you’re so wise,” Pepper said after a moment, which was _not_ a phrase I heard every day. “I hadn’t considered that. Should I take the vegetable toys away? Surely they haven’t caused irreparable damage _yet_ —“

“Er, well, I think the toys are _fine_ , Pep,” I tried to tell her. “I mean, the kid’s gonna need a healthy sense of humor and imagination just to deal with _us_ , you know. Livestock driving an off-road vehicle probably won’t be nearly as weird as Daddy’s super-co-workers, or Mommy’s childhood memories.” Just being honest here.

Pepper nodded slowly. “I will peruse the selections carefully beforehand,” she decided, “and prepare educational materials to offset the more… imaginative aspects of the story. Also, I suggest we introduce Forty to the more realistic stories first, to better prepare him. There’s a series about an unusually inquisitive simian that isn’t _too_ outrageous.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed. “Now how about we _really_ turn the kid over to Rhodey and Rae, and go talk about how wise I am some more?” After all, Pepper had been gone for nearly three hours.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more Tony and Pepper story to go!


End file.
